


no end to where we'll go

by softsocky



Series: socky shorts [11]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Aged up characters, Fluffy, M/M, but ya'll are getting it, this is the wisdom teeth fic no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 05:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12857853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softsocky/pseuds/softsocky
Summary: Minhyuk has his wisdom teeth removed, and he doesn't recognise Sanha at first.





	no end to where we'll go

**Author's Note:**

> title from graham colton's [ring around your heart'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vre8xLyD7yE) please listen to it, i swear to god, you wont find a sweeter socky song ok

When Minhyuk’s eyes fluttered open, Sanha was right there with him. He quickly scrambled out of his chair, smiling down at the boy lying on the bed. Minhyuk’s hair was messy, brushed back out of the way to make room for surgery. He’d been putting it off for months – but finally, Minhyuk had had enough of the wrenching pain at the back of his mouth, and booked himself in to have his wisdom teeth removed. He was wearing one of those horrible hospital gowns Sanha had seen in all the movies, but never in real life; with the pale blue silky fabric, and navy diamonds printed all over. They had yet to strap ice-packs onto his face – they wanted to wait till he was awake, but he was on local anaesthetic and something else, and Sanha didn’t dare think about _what_ , but judging by the hazy look in his boyfriend’s eyes, he knew it was _strong._

Minhyuk met his eyes, but they didn’t seem to connect the dots. “Wow,” he mumbled out around his swollen mouth. “You’re _gorgeous._ ”

Sanha’s mouth opened in shock, and he felt himself flush a deep pink. “An _angel_ ,” Minhyuk said, hand stretching out from the bed, reaching for his face.

Sanha allowed himself to lean forward slightly, so the drugged-up boy he called his own could touch his cheek. When his fingers dragged across his cheek, Sanha resisted the urge to press kisses all over his face. Despite the operation being harmless, and almost risk free, he _had_ been worried. Of course, he was. Not only was Rocky the man of his dreams, but he was also his best friend. Right now, though, Minhyuk didn’t seem to recognise Sanha as _Sanha_ , and although it made his heart twinge the tiniest bit, it was also unbearably _cute._

“Are you my doctor?”

Sanha shook his head, “no, Minhyuk.”

The sluggish boy giggled – _giggled,_ Gosh, Sanha could _scream_ – and sighed. “Your voice is so…wow, your voice is almost as pretty as your _face._ ”

Sanha flushed deeper now. Minhyuk _was_ an affectionate boyfriend; he offered Sanha compliments almost every time he saw him. Whether it be from his face, to what he was wearing, to his singing voice, or his dancing, Minhyuk did not shy away from sharing his thoughts about Sanha. Nevertheless, hearing them now, with Minhyuk pumped full of so many painkillers that he didn’t realise that he was _dating_ Sanha, just made it that much more embarrassingly _sweet_. People would tend to see Minhyuk as _Rocky_ and Rocky alone – they never try see past the on-stage persona, to see the real person underneath. But Sanha did, and he loved what he found.

Minhyuk kept sighing, and for a moment Sanha thought he was still in pain. “Who _are_ you then?”

Minhyuk kept staring at him in wonder, as though he were going to disappear at any moment. Sanha wasn’t going anywhere, and sane Minhyuk would know this. Surreptitiously, Sanha removed his phone from his pocket, held it in his hand, and pressed record. It was obvious enough to anyone else what he was doing, but with the current state Minhyuk was in, he probably wouldn’t even notice.

Sanha spoke now, voice shaky with laugher. “My name is Sanha.”

“ _Sanha,”_ His voice was breathy and light, and a voice Sanha rarely had the pleasure of hearing, and he’d gotten it on _tape._ “Sanha, you’re so _beautiful_.”

And then he started to cry.

Sanha didn’t know what to do. He’d only seen Minhyuk cry a handful of times, and of those time, 99% of them were stress related, and Sanha was able to offer some emotional support. Right now, however, Sanha wasn’t sure what was _wrong_ , and he didn’t know what to do. He thought about calling for a nurse, but what would they be able to do? He was crying, and from what Sanha could tell, not in any pain – and if the way he was acting was any indication, he was most definitely _not_ in any pain.

Sanha tried to shush him, reaching over him to grab a box of tissues. “Hey, hey now, it’s _okay.”_ He gently wiped away the tears on his cheeks, then brushed away a few stray hairs on his forehead. Minhyuk sniffed, eyes welling up again. “What’s the matter?”

Minhyuk didn’t respond, all he did was shrug – or at least Sanha thinks it was meant to be a shrug. It was sort of this contortion in his face that suggested uncertainty, and his right shoulder moved the tiniest bit. “I’m _jealous_!”

Sanha was confused. “Of my face?”

“No!” Minhyuk yelled it out, another sob escaping his throat. “I’m jealous of your _girlfriend!”_

Sanha pulled his head back. Girlfriend? _Wow,_ Sanha thought. _He really is high._ Sanha hadn’t thought about a girl that way since he was fourteen years old, and he hadn’t thought about anyone else since meeting Minhyuk, either.

“I don’t _have_ a girlfriend, Minhyuk,” his voice was soft and gentle, hoping that Minhyuk would mimic him, and settle down his mood.

Minhyuk stopped sniffling for a moment, and turned his head more in Sanha’s direction. “You _don’t_?”

Sanha sat the phone in his hand up on the bench, propped it up so it would keep recording. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Sanha had thought this piece of information would have been comforting for the poor boy, but instead, it just made him cry all over again – this time harder than before. Sanha didn’t need to try ask him what was wrong this time, because he was choking the words out all by himself, over the wet sound in his throat. “What do you _mean_ you don’t have a girlfriend? Why _not?_ How could she not _love you_!”

Sanha didn’t want to ask who _she_ was – frankly, he was far from interested. Instead, he said, “I may not have a girlfriend, but I _do_ have a boyfriend.” He paused, gauging his reaction. It stayed the same, if not worsening. “We’ve been together for five years now.” He leant forward, whispering into the boy’s ear. “Best five years of my life.”

Minhyuk wailed, and Sanha couldn’t stop the small smile on his lips. Minhyuk was _devastated._ Sanha knew it was cruel; unfair of him to prolong the teasing like this. But he couldn’t help it – Minhyuk was always so hard to prank, to tease, to do anything to, so this was a very rare moment, and Sanha was going to seize it with both hands. In a few hours, the delirium would pass, and he’d never get another chance like this.

Sanha leant back in his chair, but still kept a hand on Minhyuk’s arm, reassuring him that someone was still there. “He takes very good care of me.”

Minhyuk looked over at him, and sighed. Sanha could _weep_ at how upset he looked, how _cute_ and small, how _beautiful._ “He does?”

Sanha nodded, smiling at him the way Minhyuk always said was _pretty._ “He does. And he loves me very, very much. He’s always doing silly little things to show me.”

Snuffling again, he asked in a tiny voice, “like what?”

Sanha chuckled, remembering. “When he confessed to me, he brought me five different plushies. He said he couldn’t figure out which one was the cutest, so he got all five. After he gave them to me, he said that none of them were as cute as me, not even all of them combined.”

“He’s right,” Minhyuk butted in. “I haven’t seen them but he’s right. You’re so _cute._ ”

Sanha bit his lip. “Every Sunday morning, he makes me breakfast in bed. It’s all very cliché, puts a rose in a little vase and everything.”

Minhyuk frowned, “I would do that for you. I would.”

Sanha hummed, teasing him again now. “Would you?”

Minhyuk sobbed, but this time, tearlessly. “Your boyfriend’s gonna _kill_ me!”

“Why’s that?”

He threw his hands up in front of him, and then groaned, holding his head. “Are you okay?” Sanha stood up, forgetting his teasing words, his constant pestering.

Minhyuk mumbled out what sounded like _dizzy,_ before breathing heavily through his mouth. “If I were your boyfriend, angel boy, I’d kill anyone who talked to you like this.”

“Would you like to see a photo of us?”

Minhyuk did his shrug thing again, and then nodded. “Okay, angel.”

Sanha reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He would show him the photos on his phone – there were more there, and more recent ones, too – but he was still recording, and wanted to get Minhyuk’s reaction on tape. Opening his wallet, and smiled fondly at the photo in the slot. It was a series of photo booth stills of them two together, on their first date.

He slipped it out of the sleeve, handed it to Minhyuk’s outstretched hand. He caught the moment the boy realised who was in the photo. He looked over to Sanha, who was giggling now, cheeks bright. He pointed to himself, “ _me_?”

Sanha nodded, arms outstretched as if to say, _here I am!_

“ _You’re_ ,” he pointed to Sanha, then to himself, “dating _me?_ ” Sanha nodded again, not sure he’d be able to get out any words, not with the most adorable, dumbfounded looked on Minhyuk’s face. Like he’d just met a friendly ghost, or won a million dollars, or been handed a box of puppies.

“Yep,” he said, with a pop of his lips. “I’m dating you.”

Minhyuk was shaking his head, surely not helping with his dizziness. “ _This is a dream, this is a dream, this is a dream!”_

Sanha laughed louder now, pushing out of his seat again. He grabbed Minhyuk’s head between his hands, cheeks squishy and soft in his palms. “Park Minhyuk, _stop_ it. This isn’t a dream. I am Yoon Sanha, _your_ boyfriend of _three_ years. It’s all confusing right now because you’re in the hospital, and you’re coming down from some pretty heavy drugs. But I’m here, like I’ve always been. And I love you.”

Minhyuk’s eyes were starting to droop, and Sanha would have been offended at him being sleepy during his little spiel, had it not been for the fact he was highly medicated, and most likely exhausted after his crying and emotional outbursts. He had settled down, though, and Sanha could tell his heart rate was not as fast as it had been, and his grip in his hand loosened. Before he slept, though, he mumbled out one last thing.

“’m gon’ marry you.”

Soon, his breathing evened out, and Sanha sighed – exhausted himself – and sunk low in his chair. He switched off the recording, saving watching it for later. He smiled to himself as he rested his head on the pillow beside Minhyuk’s. It was an awkward angle, especially from his spot on the chair, but he could rarely sleep without his boyfriend these days. His back would hate him for it, when he woke up, but for now, all he could do was close his eyes and slip into the sound of Minhyuk’s breathing.

 

When he woke up, he kept his eyes shut for a moment. He could hear other voices – not doctors or nurses, too familiar for that. He must have been catching the tail end of a conversation, because at first, he was extremely lost.

“Are you now?” That voice belonged to Jin Jin.

There was a hum, very close to his face. He realised now he could feel fingers brushing through his hair. “I’m going to do it. As soon as he wakes up. I’ll do it, just you wait and see.”

“Okay,” another voice said, Eunwoo this time. “We’ll be here.”

Silence fell in the room, and Sanha remained curious, but slipped back into unconsciousness at the same time as Minhyuk.

 

When he woke again, Minhyuk was awake before him, and looking more alert than earlier. There were icepacks on his face now, and his cheeks looked incredibly swollen. Sanha winced, wanting to kiss the skin there, but feared that it would be too tender. The rest of the band were sitting the bed, and Sanha threw a smile in their direction. Minhyuk looked down at him, where his head had slipped from the pillow and down onto his shoulder. Sanha sat up, back cracking in a number of places, and groaned.

“Well, he’s awake, Minhyuk.”

Minhyuk froze. Sanha did too, glancing over to Eunwoo curiously. “What?”

Minhyuk turned a deep red, “Eunwoo, _don’t_.”

“You told us, as soon as he woke up, you’d do it.”

Minhyuk’s face was red from embarrassment, but his eyes shooting rays of pure hatred at Jin Jin. “I was _high._ ”

It was MJ’s turn to speak now. “That doesn’t matter. We got you saying it on _tape._ Do we need to show you the video again?”

Sanha sat there, in his chair, confused as ever. _They had filmed him too?_ He stayed quiet in his seat, choosing to say something for the time being. Instead, he continued to watch Minhyuk’s face. The pain that he must have been feeling, the bruises forming on his face, but somehow, he still looked irresistibly handsome. And _adorable._ Sanha just wanted to snuggle with him for four days straight, which was, conveniently, his recovery time.

Minhyuk groaned, throwing his head back on the pillow, something Sanha had seen many times before, but in a far difference scenario. He blushed, shaking away the thought. Minhyuk turned his head on the pillow, looking at him now. “You don’t have to say yes, okay?”

Sanha cocked his head to the side, eyes flickering over to Eunwoo – who was hiding his mouth behind his hand – and then to MJ, who was slapping Jin Jin over and over excitedly. Bin had his phone, and was recording them. “…say yes to what?”

Minhyuk took another deep breath and released it before speaking again. “Yoon Sanha,” the way his voice sounded made something register in Sanha’s head. His earlier comment, when he’d first woken up, that Sanha had brushed off. _I’m gonna marry you._ And the second time, _I’m going to do it. As soon as he wakes up_. And then now, _you don’t have to say yes._

“Oh shit.” Sanha’s hands went to his own mouth, much like Eunwoo, except he wasn’t laughing. His vision was becoming blurry, because he’d seen enough romance movies and read enough books to know what came next. It wasn’t exactly how he had envisioned it – neither of them were in hospital when he imagined this very moment, and they definitely weren’t surrounded by their teasing bandmates.

Minhyuk grabbed one of the hands from his face. “Yoon Sanha, my _angel,_ ” MJ squealed out to the side, followed by a loud _smack_ as he hit Jin Jin’s bare skin, but Sanha wasn’t listening. He was only listening to Minhyuk now, all his attention on him.

“You’re my angel, always watching over me.”

Bin cut in, “literally.” Sanha would have normally laughed at Bin’s teasing over his boyfriend’s height, but Sanha just shot him daggers now. Bin jerked his head back, leaning far back in his chair.

“You’re always there for me, even when I’m not always there for you. When I’m lost in my head, or just lost in general.” Sanha snorted, thinking of the times Minhyuk had called him, lost in the city and no idea where he was. “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever met, _shit_ , you’re gorgeous. I think I remember telling you that while I was drugged up, but Sanha, I can’t say it enough. I have had the most incredible five years with you, and I know we’re still young, and I know our band has just gotten even bigger, with the album blowing up but _Yoon Sanha.”_ Minhyuk’s eyes were watering now, too, and Sanha knew his cheeks were wet, and he could barely make out Minhyuk’s face now through his tears.

“ _Yoon Sanha, will you marry me?”_

 

(Although Sanha had never imagined getting proposed to in a hospital, it ended up being the best place. Sanha had stood far too quickly from his chair, and the suddenness of the proposal had left him in such a state of shock that he had rapidly fainted, knocking his head on the end of the bed. In turn, he’d experienced a mild concussion, but hadn’t been able to give Minhyuk the answer to his question straight away. It wasn’t until later that night, when Sanha was released, that he returned to the Minhyuk’s hospital room – only to find his bed empty and stripped, and personal belongings missing.)

(Jin Jin called him a little while later, saying they were out front. Sanha grumbled a little, annoyed that they hadn’t even waited for him.)

(When he got downstairs though, that all changed. Because outside the hospital was Minhyuk, down on one knee, with an open ring box in his hands. And then he proposed all over again, with those stupid icepacks on his face and his tongue still numb, and his hands shaking and cheeks red.)

(Sanha said yes, and he made sure to play the video at the wedding reception).


End file.
